


Only If You Believe

by InnerSpectrum



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 2020 Advent Collection Johnlock Style, Christmas Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28284789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: It's Christmas Eve and  John, dressed in holiday cheer, meets a little girl  who wants to know if Santa is real...
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 9
Kudos: 36
Collections: 2020 Advent Collection Johnlock Style, Festive Johnlock Collection





	Only If You Believe

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2020 Advent Collection Johnlock Style - my prompt "Santa (Father Christmas) encounter"  
> "

Christmas Eve. Done with his shift for the week, actually for rest of the year, John is the Tube on his way to Baker Street after a busy day at the surgery. He is listening to his music player, when a little hand pats him on the arm getting his attention. John looks to the adorable tyke standing in front him. He is bad at children’s ages because they are all so big now, but John was guessing about six years old. Colorful red and white barrettes peeking out from under a snow-white and purple knit hat that coordinated with the purple parka she wore. The mother, fussing with a little boy in her lap -clearly her son- hadn’t realized her daughter had moved until the child in all her wide, pretty half-moon, long lashed, wonder filled brown eyes looks up at him and asks:

“Hi. Do _you_ know Santa Claus? Is he real?”

Up until that moment John had forgotten that he is wearing his deep red, double-breasted ¾ length wool coat with a wide black leather belt, as he is wont to do each year in the week leading up to Christmas, because he was NOT dressing as an elf _thank you very much_. John is also wearing an off-white scarf wrapped around his neck and a bright red wool hat, with a fluffy snowy white pompom on top. His nod to the holiday season as it were. A tradition begun when his daughter Rosie was a toddler, that he has not broken himself from though is Rosie is well into K2. And with the chagrin of her other father, Sherlock, she remains fully in the land of believers, for now, as delighted as John, with the trappings of the holiday. The outfit delights his colleagues and brings smiles to random passersby and _‘Tis the season_ right(?), so he continues.

Still, John understands his outfit is why this little girl felt she could come to him with such a question. The mother smiles apologetically. John can tell she is getting ready to tell her not to bother him, but John speaks right over her in that voice most adults reserve for speaking with little children as he removes his ear buds.

“What in the candy canes makes you ask a question like that, sweetie?” John smiles, as well as a few of the adults within hearing range.

“Patty in my class says there’s no Santa Claus.” and John can see the plea in her eyes still wanting desperately to believe.

“Oh honey, Santa Claus is magical. He’s only real to those who really believe he is. Someone mean probably told Patty that Santa isn’t real and she believes them. And now because she really believes them, there is no Santa Claus for her anymore. That doesn’t mean Santa won’t be there for you. What do you believe?”

“I thinks he’s real, but now I don’t know.” she says sadly.

“Why don’t you know?”

Because they are on the Tube, John doesn’t want her to be in the way as people enter and exit, so John looks at the mother and ask if it’s okay, before John picks the child up and puts her on his knee. A burly man in a red and black buffalo plain jacket, black trousers and combat boots untied at the last few holes enters the car and sits across from John and his temporary charge. He raises a bushy brow at the two of them and smiles.

He knows, how it looks, he knows. But really, where else was John going to put her as he listens.

“Well, Patty says I don’t have to be good for Santa because there ain’t one…”

“Say _there isn’t one_ , not _there ain’t one._ ” John corrects her without thinking.

“That’s what Miss Ingraham says, too! But I keep forgetting.” she smiles the charming missing front teeth smile only tykes that young can get away with, the veracity of her teacher now confirmed, as she keeps on going. “Patty says there _isn’t_ one. She says I have to be good and nice only because Mum won’t get me nothing if I don’t.”

John bites his lip to keep from correcting her again, but she’s a smart little cookie and sees his face.

“Oops! Mum won’t get me _anything_?” She corrects herself unsure. John grins giving her an approving squeeze.

“Well, I can’t speak for your Mum. Mums have their own rules separate from Santa’s that you should to listen to. I will say that you should be good, not just for Christmas or around your birthday, because you think you’re going to get a present. You should try to be good always because it’s the right thing to do. And it makes everyone around feel nice when you do and don’t you feel nice when you do good things even when you know you’re not going to get a present for it?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, there you go!”

“But even nice to Nicky?” She whines, pointing at her younger brother still squirming in her mother’s lap. John laughs.

“Nicky is going to get on your nerves a lot while you’re little, and you’re going to get on his. That’s what happens sometimes with brothers and sisters, especially when the sister is older.” John mentally bites his cheek as he thinks of hid relationship with his own sister Harry when they were growing up as he speaks, “I am sure he won’t seem quite so bad to you when you’re both much older. Not even Santa expects kids to be perfect all the time. Still, you should do your very best to be good always, and be nice, even to him, okay?”

“Okay,” She sighs reluctantly, “I’ll try.”

“Claudia, we have to go.” Her mother stands with Nicky, who starts whining loudly.

As she slides from his lap, Claudia looks up at him as if to say _See(?)._

“I know little brothers can be such doo-doo heads sometimes, right?” John whispers, making her giggle in surprise to hear such from an adult. He winks as she returns to her mother.

“Say _Happy Christmas_ to the nice man, Claudia.” The mother mouths a grateful _thank you_ to him.

Claudia runs to back to John with her arms open, so John leans forward for the hug.

“Happy Christmas!”

“Happy Christmas, Claudia.” John gives her a quick squeeze and sends her to her mother.

Sitting across from him, the burly older man, looking for all the world like an older grunged-out lumberjack, in spite of the silver-streaked beard, gives John a thumbs up as he laughs heartily. “That was very well handled! You’re a good Agent of Santa.”

“Ta! Dressed as I am, I figure it does kind of require me to toe the party line – don’t judge!” John laughs self-effacingly as he fishes for his ear buds.

“Oh, I’m sure Santa will be good to you this year!” the man grins.

“You know something…?” John asks mostly rhetorically, but the man responds.

“What’s that?”

“I went through a hell of a time just a few years ago, but right now I’m fine. I really don’t want for anything. I’m in love with the most amazing man. And by some miracle, he's in love with me. We’re raising a beautiful fire-cracker of a daughter. I am the most deliriously happy as I’ve ever been in my life.” John’s smile is warm as he speaks, the truth of his words hitting home. “In fact, I plan to propose first thing in the morning for Christmas Day so we can wake engaged on New Year’s Eve.”

“So, you, have your ring already?”

“I do. He’s going to like it. You should see it, it’s lovely…”

As John describes the ring he bought, he thinks of the band he would have liked to have gotten for Sherlock instead. A gorgeous dark titanium and meteorite band, one worthy of a man like Sherlock. It was much too expensive and he was too impatient to wait a few more months, or longer, paying it off before he could ask or Sherlock deduced it. He considered himself lucky as it was Sherlock does not know of the carefully hidden ring he dud get.

John realizes then he’s babbling to a stranger and stops with a nervous laugh, “And why am I even telling you all this? Are you secretly a bartender?”

“Sorry, mate. I’m told I just have one of those grab a pint and chat type of faces.” The man stands as the train pulls into a station, “Well here’s where I get off, next stop is yours, Baker Street. Be good for goodness sakes (!), leave Santa a pint and keep being happy!”

“As long as I’m with him and our girl, I am.” John promises as the man exits.

He looks out the windows as the train starts to pull out of the station, but the man is already gone.

Wrapped in his own bubble of happiness; it is not until the train pulls into the next station, Baker Street, that he realizes he never told the man what station he was headed.

John shakes his head dismissing it, thinking he must have while he was babbling.

Much later Rosie has gone to bed with dreams of Christmas morning. Sherlock himself heads for their bedroom after eating the cookies _for Santa_. John feels silly, but leaves a can of beer next to the empty plate of cookies and equally empty glass of milk.

Several hours after that, on Christmas Day itself, Rosie is delighted with her haul of toys from friends, family and Santa? Each father thinking the other being overindulgent with the girl. Sherlock Holmes, soon-to-be Holmes-Watson, now wears a gorgeous, titanium and meteorite engagement band. The same ring John had once coveted was magically in the ring box instead of what he had originally purchased.

John, soon-to-be, John Watson-Holmes, himself now wears a beautiful platinum engagement band from a certain curly-haired consulting detective. One who was only slightly miffed he had no clue John’s ring box was hidden in the flat for over a week and he did not know.

Only John knew of the note that had mysterious appeared in his dressing gown that morning after rings were exchanged and then had just as mysteriously disappeared by noon.

> _“I believe even unknowing Agents of Santa deserve the best and you have him._
> 
> _Here’s the ring I know you really wanted for him, plus a little something for you from him, and a bit more for Rosie._
> 
> _Thanks for the beer! Saved it for later. Driving you know._
> 
> _Happy Christmas, John!_
> 
> _Santa”_


End file.
